The Sniffles
by nothingnothingtralala
Summary: Even Goblin Kings have their vulnerable moments... though Jareth isn't going to complain too much if it gets Sarah into Mother Hen mode. One-shot.


**Just a little innocent fun at the Goblin Monarch's expense... This is a short one-shot from a fic (GSUV) I'm currently working on but I rather like it as a stand-alone, so... enjoy :D**

**Oh, and also, Jareth and Sarah do not belong to me, even though they won't move out of my head.**

"Jareth?" Sarah would have gladly given up a million pounds rather than admit that she was worried by Jareth's absence, but all the same her feet hurried up the stairs and her hand shook slightly as she unlocked her door. "Jareth, are you – "

She paused mid-sentence in astonishment at the sight that greeted her eyes. The Goblin King was sitting sullenly on her armchair, not in his usual casual 'look at my beautiful long legs' attitude but with shoulders slumped and a dejected air. He was surrounded by goblins, who were offering him various objects, from a packet of tissues to a mug of what appeared to be ominously lumpy hot chocolate.

"Good eveding, Sarah," he said stiffly to her, and then as Jumble got a little too enthusiastic in his 'helping': "FOR THE LAST BLOODY TIBE, GOBLID, I DO DOT WADT A BISCUIT!" He aimed a half-hearted kick in Jumble's direction, and was shaken by a huge sneeze that scattered goblins left, right, and centre.

"Jareth," Sarah said in helpless amusement, "do you have a cold by any chance?"

He turned to her and glowered furiously. "DO."

"It sounds like you do, I'm afraid, your royal highness," she said disapprovingly. "I did think that all that going out in leggings and frilly shirts might be bad for you…"

"I do DOT have a cold, Sarah. Goblid Kigs do dot get colds. We are idvidcible and bysterious and _sexy_" – he was interrupted by another explosive sneeze, and Dodi helpfully handed him a tissue – "but we do DOT GET COLDS."

Sarah couldn't help it: she began to laugh. It was so _incongruous_ – his beautiful nose reddened by the sneezes and his mesmerising eyes glaring balefully through the tangled hair. "I think you probably need a hot drink and then bed, Jareth," she said more gently. "You probably have a temperature."

"Do dot," he reiterated stubbornly. "Tebperatures are for pathetic bortals, dot for – _achoo_!"

"Bless you. Come here." She leant over the chair and gently pressed her lips to his forehead for a second. Sure enough, his skin was unnaturally hot. "Thought so. You're burning up, Goblin King."

She drew back and found him staring at her with a very odd look in his eyes. "What?" she said defensively, and then when he raised an eyebrow just a fraction of an inch, blushed furiously. "It's just a way to gauge temperature accurately! It doesn't _mean_ anything!"

Whatever he was thinking, though, he didn't voice it; he stayed very quiet, suspiciously so, as she bullied him into taking off his boots and gloves and climbing into her bed, and then watched her bustle around the room getting him a drink of cool water and an extra blanket. "I'll sleep on Beth's floor until you're feeling better, okay? Do you want some hot tea?"

He shook his head. "You could always stay id this bed," he offered hopefully, but even he was aware that his usual flare was slightly less effective when muffled by catarrh, and he wasn't particularly surprised when Sarah just gave him a pitying smile and came over to smooth his hot brow with her cool, soothing hand. He closed his eyes and admitted to himself that this wasn't a bad compensation for feeling miserable and sick.

"Don't worry, you'll feel better in a day or so. Do you want some ibuprofen?"

He shook his head, eyes still closed. Without his piercing gaze on her, he looked younger, and more vulnerable, and it was hard to remember that he was an annoying and manipulative bastard when his long lashes rested on his cheeks like that. "Hubad drugs have a bad effect od be."

"Well, can't you heal yourself the way you heal my headaches?"

He opened his eyes and shook his head again, dolefully. "I tried. I thidk the fever besses with by powers."

Sarah looked at him, sceptically. "Really? Try and summon a crystal orb."

He shot her a weary, bitter look and held out a hand. After a few seconds, with a faint _pop_, a marble appeared on his palm. Sarah tried very hard not to laugh, and failed. "That's it?" she snorted. "Ha! I know what to do if I ever come up against you again – " He glared and she gave in. "All right, all right, I won't tease you until you're better again. Drink your water."

He drank obediently and with another colossal sneeze, lay back on the pillow. "I dob't feel so good, Sarah," he muttered, in spite of himself, and was rewarded with a genuinely amused but tender smile from her.

"It's okay, Jareth. You just need sleep. Close your eyes."

He let her baby him into a comforting slumber, humming little tunes to him and stroking his hair. His last conscious thought, smug to the last, was: _I could get used to this._


End file.
